Moggy
by Mizz Neko
Summary: Hermione accidentally turns herself into a cat one night. This soon leads her to the home of none other than Draco Malfoy... [PostHogwarts]
1. Cattusifors

**First HP fic - I suddenly had the perfect idea and came up with this. Read and REVIEW please!**

**Chapter One**

**Cattusifors **

Hermione Granger was bent over her desk, furiously scribbling something on the piece of parchment in front of her. On either side rose mounds of paper, thick leather bound books, and copies of the _Daily Prophet_, all of which had accumulated there over the past month.

She didn't dare look up to gaze out the small window at the shadowy front yard of the Burrow. The sun had gone down long ago, but the summer heat still lingered, filling Hermione's lungs and making her feel even more sleepy than she needed to. In the soft golden light from the desk lamp, she could see Crookshanks curled up on her bed, his head under his ginger paw, napping peacefully. A strong feeling of envy washed over her.

A rapping sound came from the door across the small bedroom. "Hermione," she heard Mrs. Weasley say, "come down for dinner now."

"Just… just a minute," she called. She ran her hands through her bushy hair, which was much frizzier than it usually was. She hastily tried to finish the paper and ended up splashing ink over it. "Oh, damn…"

As she took her wand and cleaned the ink with a charm, she heard someone walking by her door, stepping lightly and humming. Whoever it was stopped and sneezed.

"Been doing that a lot, haven't you, Fleur?" the muffled voice of Bill said. "Are you coming down with something?"

"No, no," Fleur said. "Actually, I believe it iz zat 'orrible cat of 'ermione's…"

Hermione flinched. She'd been listening to her complaining about Crookshanks to everyone in the house for a long time now, and she couldn't stand it. If she was so allergic to cats, why didn't she go look for a good spell for it or something?

Hermione sighed and continued writing on the ink blotch-free parchment. She'd come to stay at the Weasleys for a while a little more than a month ago. Three years ago when she had graduat-ed from Hogwarts, she wasn't sure what to do for a job. With the war with Voldemort still in full swing, job opportunities were not as they had been before. Harry and Ron had gone directly to the Order of the Phoenix, and so she followed along with them and ended up working in the International Magical Office of Law at the Ministry, where she could spy on Ministry activity for the Order.

For a while she had been doing fine, she could support herself and live on her own in London, then the Ministry had gotten into quite a bit of trouble… They'd arrested several people accused of being Death Eaters who murdered several wizards and witches one night in late March, but they turned out to be innocent as the real Death Eaters committed another massacre that was especially difficult to hide from the Muggles. This was not the first mistake they'd made. People had been irritated with the Ministry for a very long time, but this was the catalyst for what lots of them had thought would happen for a long time. Many employees had quit their jobs soon after and the result was disastrous for the others who had stayed.

Hermione's pay had slumped considerably, and she was forced to move in with the Weasleys. Things would probably not be getting better at the Ministry for a long time, so she was going to be there for quite a while…

"Hermione!" she heard Mrs. Weasley say again. "Your food is getting cold."

"Yes, I know, I'll be down in just a second…" She paused in her writing, biting her lip as she thought. "Oh, what was that jinx that they were talking about making illegal…"

She grabbed a book from the terribly messy pile next to her and flipped through it quickly. The rustle of pages roused Crookshanks from his sleep and the cat raised his head groggily.

"Okay… I think that's it…" Hermione muttered, stopping at a page. "I don't really see why it would be illegal…"

She raised her wand up and tapped it on the side of her face thoughtfully.

"Hm… it's a very interesting spell, though… _cattusifors_, is it?"

There was a sudden flash of red, Crookshanks hissed, and Hermione fell off her chair. She winced as she landed on the wooden floorboards. "Oh, how could I do that? I must be tired, I just cast the spell on my own self… that was so _stupid_..."

She groaned and looked up at Crookshanks, who was staring at her, and then at her wand, which had landed on the seat of the chair. It was rolling back and forth, a few scarlet sparks still fizzing from the tip. Hermione noticed it looked a bit farther up than usual.

"Wait…" Hermione said to herself. "Oh no, that jinx, it…"

"Hermione, now really!" Mrs. Weasley yelled from outside. "What are you doing in there?"

"Uh… uh…" Hermione started, but the door had swung open before she could form real words, and there was Mrs. Weasley, glancing around the door at the desk where Hermione's wand had taken her place, now silent and with no signs of shooting sparks.

"Strange," Mrs. Weasley said. "I must have missed her going downstairs…"

"But I'm right here!" Hermione said, but the door shut before she'd even finished her sentence. Crookshanks meowed questioningly to her.

"Of course," she said. "She wouldn't hear me talking, she'd only hear what she thought was Crookshanks, if the spell worked…"

She went over to a long mirror on the wall, which reached down to the floor. Everything looked higher up than it had earlier. And, when she looked, she did not see a twenty-year-old young woman still in her work clothes and looking haggard and stressed. Instead, there was a thin, lithe cat with a brown coat of fur, standing and staring at its reflection with dark amber eyes.

"Great," she said. The cat in the mirror opened its mouth showing a set of white fangs and a rough tongue, mewing in a defeated tone.

She trotted back over to the desk and hopped up on the chair by the wand. After thinking for a second, she closed her jaws around the wood, raised it up, and then tried to figure out how she would ever manage to point it at herself. At that moment, she also remembered that she didn't know the counter jinx and she wouldn't be able to say it with her mouth around the wand anyway.

"Da'it," she said, cursing despite the thicker than usual handle of the wand.

"Fleur!" she heard Mrs. Weasley saying outside. "I have to go warm Hermione's dinner up again, she wasn't down there after all. Could you remind her to come down for me?"

She heard Fleur sigh, then someone walking to the door. The wand dropped from her mouth. "Oh, _no_!" she muttered.

The door swung open. The petite young French woman with long white blonde hair (which was amazingly unaffected by the humidity) was standing there, looking around the room. Her eyes locked on Crookshanks, who was still sitting on Hermione's bed.

"Hmph," she said, and then sneezed again. Then as she was recovering, she saw Hermione on the chair and her jaw dropped.

"Anozer one!" she said. "_Anozer _one? Agh!"

She started wildly cursing in French and Hermione, wanting more than anything to get away from her, hopped down from the chair, ran past Fleur's legs and dashed out the door, with the woman still saying, "_Fichus chats_!"

She ran down the hall and to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was setting a bowl of soup and a small plate of warm bread out at Hermione's spot at the table. Bill was still eating. She ran over and started to meow to Mrs. Weasley. She looked down and gasped.

"Where did you come from?" she said. "Oh, Arthur must have left the door open on his way over to – oh, yes, he did…"

Bill shrugged. "You know Dad."

"Well, that was still quite careless of him…"

Mrs. Weasley sighed, picked her up and carried her to the door. Hermione realized too late that Mrs. Weasley was taking her out of the house. "I'm sorry, dear," the redheaded woman said. "I know Hermione wouldn't want Crookshanks to get fleas or something, though…"

Hermione yowled sorrowfully, but Mrs. Weasley had set her outside, patted her on the head and shut the door before she could try to get in.


	2. Break In, Sort Of

**Chapter Two**

**Break In (Sort Of)**

Hermione folded her ears angrily. "Now I'll never get back in!" she meowed. "My work will never get done, I'll be fired, I'll have no job, Harry and Ron and everyone else at the Order will be mad at me… Oh no, what if I never get back to human form?"

Hermione sat outside the door, unmoving, and yowled repeatedly. She yowled and yowled, but no one ever came to the door, and soon the lights in the kitchen window turned off, followed by the bedroom windows, and she was alone, sitting on the doorstep still begging to be let in.

The land around the Burrow looked very dark and empty. She looked around warily at the shadows across the lawn, the only light coming from the moon. There was no sound, not even a breeze to rustle the leaves of the trees. She sat for a moment, frozen half because she was afraid and half because she hoped maybe Mr. Weasley or Harry or Ron or someone might Apparate there suddenly, and they'd realize it was Hermione and turn her back…

Seeing nothing else to do, she walked out into the yard cautiously. There was no point just sitting there… she should go find a place to sleep for the night… in the morning they would realize she was gone and something was wrong, and she could come back, they'd know it was her and everything would be fine…

She went down the driveway in front of the Burrow and out onto the road, searching for someplace, but out here it was mostly all countryside…

She walked on and on for what seemed like an hour or more. The whole time she occupied herself with worrying. She tried not to get too far from the Burrow; she always kept it in sight. Eventually she gave up and sat down on the side of the road, feeling alone and hopeless.

_Crack_. The sharp, loud noise pierced the night air. Hermione's sensitive ears turned toward the place it came from: behind her. She turned her head, ducking down.

There, in the shadows, she could see a tall, lean figure in black robes walking quietly down the road. The darkness hid his face, but she could hear him saying something under his breath, and he sounded angry.

It was a Death Eater.

_Crack_. The second time, Hermione didn't jump as she had before but still flinched. The Death Eater turned around. Another shorter person, also in black robes, had appeared behind him. Hermione could tell it was a woman.

"What are you doing here?" the first one said. His voice was especially hostile now.

"_Shut up_!" the woman hissed. "You want them to find us?"

There was no reply from him, only an empty silence. Hermione stayed extremely still, knowing that if she moved, they'd see her and probably kill her. After all, they wouldn't care about a cat, after all the people they'd tortured and murdered.

The woman started to walk briskly over to him. He turned his back and hurried away from him.

"Don't you run from me!"

"_Run_!" he spat, stopping and turning to face her. "Who said I was running? I have a job to do, don't I?"

"Don't do it now," she said. "Wait until later."

He stood rooted on the spot, not saying anything. Hermione thought for a minute. Job… If a Death Eater was talking about a "job", she knew it couldn't be good. He was probably going to go murder someone. But there was only one house out in this area…

Hermione's ears folded. The Weasleys were all with the Order; it could be any of them… Ginny or Ron… And of course they'd all want to get their hands on Harry, but wasn't Voldemort waiting to kill him himself?

Whatever the case, she had to get back to the Burrow before the Death Eater could make up his mind. She couldn't just wonder around until morning now, in the kind of situation she was in…

"I'm just nervous," the woman said. Her voice sounded motherly now. "I mean, the last time you were given an assignment like this…"

She trailed off and the silence continued. The other Death Eater only shifted, as if he were uncomfortable with the conversation. While they were distracted, Hermione began to pad across the ground slowly and silently.

"Yes, but…" the male Death Eater began, "if I _don't_ do it…"

"I know," the woman sighed. "I know what might happen. But you're my only son, I worry about you, Draco…"

_Draco_?! This Death Eater just meters from her was Draco Malfoy? The one she and her friends had despised so much in school? That Draco? Hermione was so surprised, she forgot to keep quiet and kicked a rock along the dirt.

"What was that?" Malfoy said, whipping around immediately, wand raised. Hermione didn't move out of shock. She was filled with dread, looking at the black figure in the darkness, those silver eyes glinting malevolently in the night. She thought he would see her for sure…

"Damn mice," he said, his hand falling to his side, still clutching the wand. Hermione nearly fell over. She was trembling; her heart was beating violently fast…

"Draco, really – " Malfoy's mother started again.

"Not right now," he said. "I told you, I have a job to do, so stop worrying about me, I can damn well take care of myself, all right?"

There was no reply from her. Hermione realized she'd have to go now if she was going to go at all, so she continued forward, scuttling and keeping silent, then when she was a far enough distance from them, she ran as fast as she could, seemingly gaining speed with each second. She was at the front door of the Burrow much sooner than she thought she would.

Hermione frantically began scratching at the door. Maybe someone would think it was Crook-shanks coming in from his night hunt…

Then she stopped. _Of course!_ Hermione had put a cat flap into the back door when she'd moved in for Crookshanks. Why didn't she think of it before? Her mind really was gone to her tonight…

She ran around to the other side of the house. Right in the back door was the dark flap towards she bottom. She hopped inside and through several pairs of shoes and boots into the back hallway. It was just as dark in here as outside. Fleur, Bill, and Molly Weasley were all upstairs sleeping. Ginny and Mr. Weasley must have come home from the Order's latest meeting a long time ago.

_Click_. The sound was so soft, Hermione was sure that if she had still been a human, she wouldn't have heard it at all. It was followed by extremely faint footsteps and what she thought was the rustling of robes.

_He's coming_, she thought. Tremors of fear ran through her small body. She crept into the living room and over to the door leading to the kitchen, which was open a crack. She peered around the doorframe and saw just what she had anticipated.

Malfoy was coming, walking lightly, wand held out, right towards the door Hermione was looking through right now. The front door was wide open behind him. She had to act quickly.

The witch-turned-cat, always good at coming up with strategies, glanced around the room. Her amber eyes came to rest on the hearth in which a small fire still crackled. The Weasleys' bag of Floo Powder rested on the shelf above it, besides innumerable pictures of the family, all redhead-ed and grinning.

Hermione ran over to the floral print armchair by the fire, hopped up onto the back, then onto the shelf. She took the heavy bag in her mouth and hopped back down. She could hear Malfoy standing right outside the door now, his breathing slow.

On the hearthrug, she picked at the tassels keeping the bag shut until the cloth sagged over to show the glittering powder inside. She heard Malfoy's hand on the doorknob now.

She butted the bag with her head, pushing it toward the fire, heart beating fast now…

The door swung backward without a sound and Malfoy stepped in silently. She almost would not have heard him, but she felt his presence. It was as if the excitement inside her had induced an extreme sensitivity to the air… The bag was almost to the fire…

"What the – " Malfoy sputtered under his breath, and she knew he had seen her. Though she had expected him to, it still surprised her. She turned quickly, knocking the bag over.

_Perfect_. The powder spilled out across the fireplace right into the flames. They rose up to twice their size, roaring and now a bright green color.

"Hm… Arthur, did you hear something?"

Both cat and Death Eater stood absolutely frozen, not daring to move, listening intently to the voices upstairs.

"Actually I did…" came Mr. Weasley's reply.

"Maybe you should go have a look…"

"Molly, you've done this several times in the past week, it's just Hermione's cat coming in, remember?"

"It might not be this time…"

Arthur sighed. Hermione heard a bed upstairs creak, then she heard his feet hit the floor. "Damnit all!" Malfoy hissed. He pointed his wand at her. "_You damned cat_…"

Hermione leapt forward, sprinting across the floor toward him. Malfoy seemed to be trying to decide whether he should waste a jinx trying to defend himself from a cat, and as he stood there, Hermione bit him on the leg.

Malfoy stifled a yelp and staggered a little, trying to get her off by vigorously shaking his leg.

"_Get – off – you – bloody – cat – _" he whispered angrily.

Hermione just dug her teeth down farther in his skin. He continued to try and shake her off. So far her little plan was working perfectly… And now the Floo Powder might not even be needed… She could hear Mr. Weasley coming down the stairs, yawning.

"Molly, there's nothing in the kitchen," he said. "Wait, why's the front door wide open?"

"_Great_," Malfoy whispered through gritted teeth. "OUCH – "

He tripped and hit his head on the shelf where the Floo Powder had been with a loud _thump_. Hermione was sprawled out on the floor right where he would fall soon if she didn't move. She dashed out of the way; he crashed to the ground and landed in the neon green flames, right where Hermione had accidentally run into at the same time.


	3. Xanthe

**Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad to finally get a fairly good story going on again. :D Here's the next chapter…**

**  
Chapter Three**

**Xanthe**

Soon Hermione came coughing out of a strange fireplace, her dark chocolate-colored fur coated in a layer of soot. She tumbled out onto a scarlet carpet, getting black marks all over it. She turned and saw Malfoy lying behind her, completely limp and turned so that she couldn't see his face.

She looked around their surroundings. They were in a cozy, large living room. The flames in the wide hearth reduced in size and shifted from green to red-orange. Large mahogany bookshelves against the walls were filled with thick, dusty volumes. Two white armchairs and a white loveseat were set around a coffee table on which a small picture frame sat. In the picture, an older teen girl with curly blonde hair smiled and played with a strand of her hair. Half of the picture was burned off. Small gold letters in the corner said, 'Xanthe, 7th Year', with part of the phrase scribbled out with black ink.

"Why does she look familiar?" Hermione mewed to herself.

"Urrrgh…"

She turned around and saw Malfoy slowly lifting himself from the floor. A large red, swollen spot had formed on his head where he'd hit the Weasleys' fireplace. He opened his eyes and looked over to Hermione, sitting in front of him with her head turned.

"You… you damn cat…" he groaned.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!"

Hermione jetted to a safe spot under the coffee table at the sound of the voice. The same blonde girl from the picture had suddenly come from the hallway to the right. She slowly and carefully walked toward Malfoy, her arm raised, shaking, grasping her wand. Her face was tinged with red from anger.

"You! I want you out of my house!" she screamed to Malfoy.

"This is _your_ house?" he yelled back, jumping up from the floor and getting his own wand out from his robes. "I couldn't tell! It looks so much like some Muggle's dump…"

"I told you to get out," she said.

"And how dare you, a blood traitor like you, even more disgraceful than a Mudblood, telling me what to do, I'd kill you – "

"Oh, you would, would you? Then do it! Kill me, right now!"

Malfoy's grin faded. He kept his arm outstretched and glared at her. He opened his mouth as if to shout some more, but he closed it again as if he'd thought better of it.

The woman put her arm down at her side, but continued to look him in the eyes.

"You couldn't murder me, could you, Draco?"

"Shut up!" he snapped. He pivoted around on one foot, looking absolutely livid. The woman behind him continued.

"You're too soft-hearted to be a Death Eater, aren't you? You couldn't kill Dumbledore and you couldn't kill me, no matter how much you hate us."

"I said to shut up! I'm only sparing you because the Dark Lord hasn't commanded me to kill you – yet."

"Of course," she said, sounding completely unconvinced. She stared at him, her face expressionless, knowing, and didn't say anything more. Malfoy stared into the fire. Hermione could see that he was thinking furious thoughts, just from the look in his eyes, the ferocious look he had.

"I'm leaving," he said simply, swallowing and raising his wand in the air.

"Don't forget your cat," the woman said. She walked over to Hermione and bent down to pick her up. _Oh, God no_, she thought. _I don't WANT to go home with him!_ She growled as low and demonically as she could to make her point, but the woman didn't seem to be listening.

"You even pissed off the little Moggy," she said.

"I don't want the goddamned cat," Malfoy hissed.

"Of course you do," she said, throwing Hermione at him. She meowed her displeasure as she sailed through the air toward Malfoy, an uncomfortable swooping feeling filling her stomach. In seconds, she'd landed, dazed, in Malfoy's arms.

"Aw, you caught her," the woman said, smirking.

Malfoy's face turned red. "_I told you I don't want the bloody animal, it's not mine_!"

She wasn't listening, but had reached into her own bag of Floo Powder on the coffee table and absentmindedly threw it into the fire, turning the flames bright green again.

"Hey, wait, what are you – " Malfoy started, but the woman interrupted.

"Take care of Moggy," she said casually, walking around him, and then, before he could protest, she'd said, "Draco Malfoy's home!" and pushed him into the fire.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Malfoy and Hermione, still in his arms, ended up tumbling out of a fireplace in a much larger, more spacious room. It was considerably different from the woman's living room; this was obviously the home of a wealthy wizard, with green leather furniture and large portraits of people with white-blonde hair, all glowering at them from the walls. Fitting for the stuck-up pureblood.

"I hate that bitch…" Malfoy said, fuming. Hermione wriggled out of his arms and quickly ran behind a couch, from which spot she hissed viciously at him.

"Oh, come off it, you beast," he growled, getting up off the floor and brushing soot and ash from his already black robes. "I've had enough, I'm going to bed. I hope you get out of here before then."

"I will, believe me!" Hermione growled.

With one final glare in her direction, he stormed off through the only door in the room, slamming it shut behind him. Hermione took several minutes to calm down and think through what had happened, then she slowly emerged from her little crevice.

The room was unbearably gloomy, with all the Malfoys in the shadowy pictures looking at her as if they knew she was really a Muggle-born witch, and that it was her fault that she was here in the first place.

Hermione did not stop to wonder who the woman was in the strange house, or why Malfoy seemed to be so intimidated by her. Right now, Hermione was more worried about being trapped here. She felt even more alone than she had when Mrs. Weasley shut her out of the Burrow. After all, she was in the home of Draco Malfoy, the person she'd hated the most in the world after she'd found out she was a witch.

How was she going to get out? She couldn't open the door, and when she got out there, how long would it take her to found the front door? Knowing Malfoy's family, this house was bound to be huge… this probably wasn't the only living room he had…

And then she didn't have her wand, and even if she did, she couldn't pick it up or say the incant-ations… She was really starting to appreciate extendable thumbs, now that she didn't have them… She couldn't open doorknobs, couldn't _reach_ doorknobs…

_Oh. My. God_, she thought. _I'll be stuck here forever! I'll live with Malfoy, he'll treat me like rubbish, and Harry and Ron and everyone will think I've been murdered! No!_

She ran to the door, began scratching at the wood, and yowled desperately, even though she knew it probably would not work. And, of course, she got no answer, until finally Malfoy yelled, "Shut up, you bloody cat!"


	4. Missing

**Five hundred hits! Yay!  
Keep reviewing! XD Here's the fourth one…**

**Chapter Four**

**Missing**

Hermione spent a long, miserable night in her "Safe Spot" behind the couch in fitful sleep. She never thought she would have to find out what it was like to sleep when she was trapped in the house of one of the people she hated the most.

Finally, she could see a bit of golden light seeping in through the crack in the curtains. She crouched at the very corner of the couch, gazing intently at the door. As soon as Malfoy came in, she would bolt out the door and run like a madwoman – er, cat – to find the front door and get out. He might not even come into the living room, but it was the only good plan she had now…

She waited for a very long time, looking from the door to the wall clock and back to the door again. It was almost eleven before she finally heard voices outside.

"Mr. Malfoy, sir, Erkki has cleaned the dining room and the ballroom just as Master asked!" came the squeaky voice of what was, unmistakably a house elf. Hermione puffed up with anger at the thought of how many house elves Malfoy probably had doing all his work for him.

"Good, now finish the living room," Malfoy said. "I'm going out."

"Yes, sir, Erkki will clean the living room now, sir!"

In a split second, the door had swung open, just as Hermione heard another door close. The house elf, Erkki, came bounding in, carrying a large bucket of cleaning supplies. He immediately spotted Hermione after setting the bucket down a foot from her.

"Oh, Master has a cat!" it squeaked. "Erkki should take care of Master's cat, also."

"I can take care of myself!" Hermione meowed indignantly, hoping maybe house elves could understand her. "I'm not even a cat, I'm a human!"

"Oh, yes!" Erkki said. "Master's cat must be very hungry! Erkki will feed him!"

"_Her_," Hermione growled. Then she thought of something: if she just went along with it, then Erkki would let her go around the house, thinking she was Malfoy's beloved little cat, and she could find the front door, no trouble at all.

Erkki reached down and scooped Hermione up with his great, leathery brown hands. He walked out of the living room and into an even bigger entrance hall with marble floors and a grand stair-case. She had a chance to stare longingly at what was undoubtedly the front door, as it was the only one with a stained glass pane in it. Erkki then went into a swinging door that was back in a corner so that Hermione wouldn't have seen it if she hadn't been being carried into it.

This room was the kitchen, which was smaller than the other rooms. The tables and appliances were close to the floor. It was very warm from the kitchen fire and the food cooking on the stoves. Of course, there were about five house elves scuttling around doing all the labor. Hermione was so angry seeing them all she could've had an aneurysm.

Erkki deposited her on the floor, out of the way of the busy house elves. He patted her head, went to the pantry, and came back with a little dish of tuna. "There! Master's cat is fed! Erkki will continue cleaning now…"

He went out the door, leaving Hermione to stare at the pile of pinkish-white meat in the dish. She had always hated tuna. It smelled especially foul now…

"I'm not eating that rubbish," Hermione mewed. She left the dish and dashed out the door as a house elf was exiting through it.

She ran to the door with the stained glass pane, stretched her paws out upon it, and scratched repeatedly, hoping Erkki would come back and let her out.

It worked. The house elf emerged from the living room. "Oh! So Master's cat wants out!"

He stepped forward, unlocked the door, and held it open. Hermione darted over the threshold, down the stone steps, through the front yard decorated with carefully tended to, unusual plants, and found herself on a very strange street.

It was filled with houses which were just as large and fancy as Malfoy's. It would appear very normal, however, the road running between them did not look like a road. It looked more like a wide, old-fashioned sidewalk, and there were no cars on it, but a few people in strangely colored robes. One squat man stopped at the corner of the street and Disapparated right in front of everyone. Hermione deduced that this must be a no-Muggle neighborhood.

"Right," she mewed. "Now I have to find the Burrow…"

She looked left and right and tried to find something about the place that would tell her how close to or how far away she was from the Burrow. She saw some posters stuck to a lamppost and decided to look there.

As she approached, she saw that the largest and most noticeable poster there was a purple Ministry poster. The photo covering most of it was not of Bellatrix Lestrange or some other Death Eater, though – but of herself.

"What?" she mewed. Above it was the word "MISSING", and below was a small caption.

"Hermione Granger

Desc: 20 yrs old, height 5 ft. 4 in. (163 cm.), weight, 121 lb. (54 kg.), eyes; brown, hair: brown

Gone missing June 8th at about 0:27 PM; is unarmed; is believed to have been kidnapped by a Death Eater

Any information should be reported to Ministry officials immediately."

Hermione stared in dismay. _Great, now everyone thinks a Death Eater is holding me hostage! …Oh, wait, I was…_

She growled and tried to look for another poster telling her where she was. She kept glancing back at the photo of herself, which was from around Christmas and showed her grinning and happy. The exact opposite of how she felt after the incident with the Ministry…

Hermione failed to find anything that gave her any clue where she was. So now she had two options. She could wander the streets aimlessly, trying to find a way to the Burrow, or she could turn back and just live at Malfoy's house…

It was a lose-lose situation. In the end, though, she decided to go back to Malfoy's. It seemed he wasn't home very often, and at least Erkki tried to help her out… She could just stay there until she thought of a better plan…

She sauntered down the road back up to Malfoy's huge second story house. She scratched at the door unenthusiastically, and soon Erkki was there to let her in.

She went and hid behind the couch again, trying to nap, since cats couldn't do much else. She found it hard to sleep with hunger biting at her stomach, though… Hours passed by and Erkki moved on to other chores in the house. The living room was empty for quite some time before the sun began to set, and the daylight pouring in through the now open curtains changed to a honey color.

At that time, Malfoy came home. Hermione looked around the side of the couch at him coming in through the open living room door.

"Is the house ready for that party, then?" he asked, stopping in front of the door and staring off toward the corner where the kitchen door was. He looked as if he had more interesting things to think about than parties.

"Yes, sir!" Erkki squeaked, appearing in Hermione's line of sight. "It's all tidied up, sir!"

"Good," Malfoy said simply, heading for what was probably the staircase. Erkki disappeared from view, too.

If Hermione was going to be trapped in this house as Malfoy's pet, then she may as well do the Order a favor and get some more information on the Death Eaters from Malfoy. She walked out from behind the couch and wandered up the stairs.

She was now in a long hall filled with doors. She knew he must be behind one of them, but where would he have gone? She stopped at each one and listened for a brief second. Finally she came to one and heard muted talking.

"…she's the one that's wrong," said a young woman's voice on the other side of the door.

Hermione heard Malfoy sigh. "But how can she be? I – I didn't do it…"

"Can't you see? She's working for those blood traitors that idiot Dumbledore put together. She just wants to shake you up so she can get you to give in to them – "

"I still think she's right, Pansy. When I was supposed to kill Dumbledore that night at Hogwarts…"

"Draceeeey," she whined. (_Must be his girlfriend_, Hermione thought, rolling her eyes.) "Just forget about it! You are one of the best Death Eaters the Dark Lord has ever had, I know you are."

_She says that like it's a big achievement or something_. Hermione dug her claws into the carpet.

"Right," Malfoy said. Suddenly the door opened and Hermione found herself sitting right in front of Malfoy. Behind him was a girl with a round, pouty face, clutching his arm. _Is that Pansy Parkin-son?!_ Hermione thought.

"You have _bad_ taste in women!" Hermione mewed, frowning. (If cats could frown.)

"The cat!" Malfoy said, looking extremely disappointed.

"Awwww!" Pansy cooed. "You didn't tell me you had a cat!"

She reached down and picked up Hermione, who promptly began growling and hissing. Pansy ignored her and stroked her fur gently.

"What's her name?" Pansy asked. Hermione hissed again.

"Uh…" Malfoy started. Hermione thought he'd tell her he didn't know her name and didn't care, but she was appalled to hear him say, "it's Moggy. Isn't she cute?"

_Ugh!_ Hermione thought. _He's using me so she'll like him even more! _She hissed again, but this time her anger was directed at Malfoy.

"She's _adorable_!"

Suddenly, they all heard a _thud_. Malfoy looked toward the staircase where the sound had come from. Erkki appeared at the top step, panting.

"Master!" he shrieked. "He's here! Forgive me! I couldn't keep him from coming in!"

Malfoy's face turned white. Pansy looked at him. "Who's he going on about?" she asked.

"_Me_," said a dark, drawling voice. "Mr. Malfoy and I need to have a… _conversation_."


	5. The Book

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**Chapter Five**

**The Book**

Pansy dropped Hermione out of shock. Luckily, because of her newfound cat agility, she flipped and landed on her feet. _Thanks for squeezing the hell out of me and then dropping me, you bloody cow_, Hermione thought, growling again.

But if she was ticked then… well, she was about to burst when she saw who had come for Malfoy.

A shabby-looking man was walking down the hall toward them looking as if he did this every day. His ragged black robes were dusty at the hem and his greasy black hair was disheveled and messy. But however much he had changed, it was most certainly Severus Snape. Just the sight of him, the man who'd ridiculed Harry, Ron, and her, and who had killed Dumbledore, made her hot with rage. She hissed at him. He shot her a deathly glare.

"P – Professor Snape?" Pansy stuttered. "I thought – "

"Pansy, go downstairs," Malfoy cut in quickly. He was very ashen faced now.

She looked at him, shocked. "What's going on? Have you known, Draco?"

"I said to _go downstairs_," Malfoy said again. "Erkki, make sure Pansy gets downstairs."

"Draco!" she cried, but Erkki quickly ran over, trembling all over and muttering under his breath. The house elf ushered her over to the staircase, leaving Malfoy, Snape and Hermione alone together.

"What about the cat?" Snape muttered, sneering at Hermione. The cat hissed venomously.

"It's just a cat," Malfoy said. "I know – "

"Wait a minute," Snape interrupted. "I think we should move to another room before we continue this conversation. After all, this is a _private_ conversation." He scrutinized Hermione for a moment. She hissed and growled at him in return.

Snape grabbed a confused-looking Malfoy by the back of his shirt collar and dragged him into the nearest room, where he had been with Pansy just minutes before.

As the door shut behind them, Hermione thought for a minute. After Snape had killed Dumbledore in her sixth year, the Ministry had gone searching for him first. Malfoy had almost been arrested himself, but was passed as just being a witness. Snape never was caught and put in Azkaban. Of course everyone in the Order knew he had gone into hiding and was still helping Voldemort undercover, but there wasn't much they could do about it if they didn't know where he was.

She never would have guessed, though, that Snape still watched everything Malfoy did. And why did Snape suspect her? How could he know she was really Hermione Granger? Well, he might know she was really a human, but he probably didn't know she was Hermione if he had scolded Malfoy for murdering her.

She moved over to the door, trying to hear some of what they were saying. All she managed to get was Snape saying, " – killed…. wrong person… Weasley…"

Hermione thought again. So Malfoy's assignment _had_ been to kill Ron. But why him? It could have just as easily been anybody else in the Order, Tonks or Lupin… Why was Snape scolding him for killing the wrong person? Nobody had died at the Weasley house that night.

A sudden crash from within the room made Hermione flinch. "_You don't just go killing Mudbloods left and right!_" she heard Snape shout.

So that was what he was getting at. He thought Malfoy had killed Hermione, and that's why she was missing. _But if I had really been killed, then they would have found my body_, Hermione thought matter-of-factly. _Honestly…_

She leaned against the door once again, trying to pick up more of the conversation, but they were talking in even lower voices now.

Disappointed, she began to walk away. She had gotten midway down the hall when an earsplitting scream scared Hermione so badly she jumped a foot into the air and the fur on her back stood on end.

"Good lord, what the bloody hell was that?!" she exclaimed.

"What's going on up there?" she heard Pansy cry downstairs.

"Nothing, nothing, Erkki knows nothing…" the house elf whined, sounding all too fake.

Hermione heard loud footsteps, then the door opened with such force it slammed into the wall and swung back. Snape stepped out and shut it behind him with as much noise. He went down the hall acting completely normal, then came to a halt when he saw Hermione.

"There's something I don't like about you," he said to her. Hermione growled. Snape marched off again, down the staircase and out of sight.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hermione went down into the living room and hid behind the couch again. Pansy and Erkki had disappeared, and she had not seen Malfoy. The sun had completely set now. Erkki must have been preoccupied, because he'd left the curtains open so that she could clearly see the night sky, a huge risk to take these days.

Eventually, there came a knock on the door. Hermione looked up at the clock; it was around eight o'clock. Someone came running down the stairs, and she saw through the living room door Erkki approaching the front door. He opened it, and she could see about six witches and wizards all in dress robes.

"'Ello, wasn't Draco 'avin' a party tonight?" the one at the front said.

Erkki shook his head. "The party has been cancelled, Master is ill. Mr. Malfoy apologizes."

The group groaned and turned. Just before Erkki closed the door, Hermione heard one say, "I've been looking forward to this all week. Why is he always sick?"

_So he's like this _all _the time, then? _Hermione thought. _He must be out doing tasks Voldemort set him…_ _Snape must have told him about a "job"…_

She raised herself from the floor, which she was becoming very accustomed to now. She slinked out of the living room and ascended the stairs, wondering if maybe she'd find her answer there.

It had felt very quiet and empty in the living room before, but it felt terribly silent in the long hallway. She strained to hear something as she walked down the corridor, just because the eerie feeling here disturbed her.

She passed door after door until finally she saw one out of the corner of her eye which was open a crack. It could not have been Malfoy's bedroom; she had found this room too soon, and it was on the opposite side of the hall. She prodded it with a paw and it opened enough that she could squeeze herself inside.

It was an office, with a writing desk and filing cabinet on one side and a few bookshelves on the other. It seemed very empty; there were no pictures on the walls or anything other than what was needed in an office. Even most of the shelves were empty save for a few books. It also looked as if it hadn't been dusted or anything in here for a long time.

_There must be something in here that Malfoy wants no one to see, not even his house elves_, she said, noting a particularly thick layer of dust on the handle of a drawer in the filing cabinet. _So then why is the door open?_

Then she saw a book lying up on the desk. It was the only thing even slightly out of order in this room. Its cover was green leather, and she could tell just looking from where she was how fragile and old the pages must be; they were seriously discolored.

Hermione hopped up onto the chair and then onto the desk right beside the book. On the cover, two capital letters had been scribbled in ink:

"X.M."

_Aha!_ Hermione thought. _It's code for his Death Eater assignments! I knew it!_

She fumbled with the cover, trying to lift it up so she could see what he could have put in this book that was so secret.

"Moggy, what are you doing in here?"

Hermione almost had a heart attack. She looked up quickly and saw Pansy in the doorway. Her hair was lopsided and her face looked a bit blotchy, like she'd been crying. She didn't say another word, but stepped forward, grabbed Hermione, and hugged her to her chest. The cat growled in vain.

"Oh, Moggy, I wish I knew what exactly was going on," she said.

_I wish I knew what was in that book_, Hermione thought as Pansy walked out of the office with her and shut the door tightly. _I wish I knew how to get to the Burrow and how to make people realize I'm not their bloody pet…_


	6. Investigation

2000 hits after the fifth chapter! Thanks for reading and reviewing! 

I took a bit of break, so this update comes a day late. (Sorry!) Here's the sixth one.

Chapter Six Investigation 

Pansy kept an extremely annoyed Hermione in her arms for what seemed like hours afterward, sitting on the living room couch and talking to her like she was a baby. After that much unwanted cuddling, Hermione was relieved when Pansy let her down.

"I'm going to bed now, Moggy," she said, and then she walked out, closing the door behind her.

Hermione went back behind the couch and curled up to sleep herself, not knowing what else to do. She closed her eyes, and before she knew it, it was morning.

But it wasn't much better. She stayed locked in until Erkki took her to eat breakfast, which was a dish full of leftovers and scraps. Hermione stared at it for a minute, until her stomach roared. She looked through the pile of food until she found a few pieces of kipper and ate those.

Erkki let her out again, and again she bolted down the street to the lamppost. There were no new posters. The picture of a grinning, human Hermione still looked down at her. She turned and looked around for something else to give her a clue as to where she was, but found nothing. Again, she returned to Malfoy's home.

She spent the rest of her day napping (now that she had been here for a bit longer, she found she was surprisingly sleepy much of the day), searching through her food, and trying to sneak into the office where the mysterious book lay.

That was another thought: if Malfoy didn't even let his house elves in there to clean it, then why was Pansy allowed in there? Of course people are more prone to showing the one they love a secret than they are to show their house elf, Hermione thought. But honestly, since when has Malfoy loved anyone but himself?

She tried waiting in front of the door and scratching at it once. Pansy walked by, saw her, and thought she wanted outside. "No, Moggy, the front entrance is downstairs."

I know that, Hermione thought. Do I look stupid?

Pansy scooped her up, carried her downstairs, set her in front of the door, and opened it to let her out. "There you go, Moggy!"

Hermione glared at her like she'd lost her mind.

"Oh, did you change your mind? That's awight, Moggy…"

She patted her on the head lovingly, shut the door, and went back upstairs. Hermione was so sick of her that kitchen scraps didn't sound too terribly bad at the moment.

She slept behind the couch, and then woke up to Erkki, who took her to breakfast. She went outside and still no new posters had been put up. She retreated to the house, tried to get back in the office, and failed, then went to sleep behind the couch again…

The next day was the same, and the next… Hermione got sick of this routine all too quickly. It seemed to have been several weeks or maybe months before she saw Malfoy for the first time since Snape came, walking down the stairs in the morning, fully dressed.

"I'm going out with some friends," he said to Erkki. (Yes, a little morning murder before lunch, I suppose, Hermione thought bitterly.) "I've rescheduled that party for tomorrow evening."

"Yes, sir!" Erkki squeaked. Malfoy walked out the door then, leaving Hermione to her usual, monotonous day.

She never saw him return; he must have come back late when she was already asleep behind the living room couch. In any case, he came down the stairs, gave his usual goodbye to Erkki, and left.

When Hermione went up to try to get into the office again, a couple of house elves, neither of them Erkki, went by looking frantic.

"Who are the fifty on the guest list, Oggy?" one of them asked.

"Fifty-two," said the slightly taller one, evidently Oggy. "Blaise Zabini is coming with Amanda Chrysoprase, then there are, of course, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle…"

Hermione could have clawed the door to shreds. She didn't know an Amanda, but she most certainly knew Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini, and she didn't like a single one of them. And now she was going to be in the same house with them for who knew how long? How many other Slytherins and Death Eaters did he invite?

"Damn," Hermione growled.

Time passed, and outside the window in the living room (which Hermione had come to know as her bedroom of sorts) the sun set and the light faded. Malfoy had come home and put on very attractive dress robes with silver threads sewn around the neck and hem. The house elves were rushing into the ballroom carrying silver dishes and goblets. Soon Erkki was opening the door and welcoming guest after guest after guest… Hermione was revolted just thinking of who these wealthy looking people really were… A bunch of pureblooded, Dark wizards and witches…

She didn't want to, but as usual, she felt it to be her duty to investigate for the Order. She crept into the dining room and from there went into the ballroom. It was a huge room, with a high ceiling and a balcony that wrapped around the area, and wide windows through which anyone could clearly see the stars. Many people were gathered inside, talking with each other.

Hermione went and sat beside the nearest group, pretending to wash her face with her paw, thought they didn't seem to notice her anyway. She didn't get much information; all that she found out was that some Matthew had a new girlfriend. How utterly boring…

She moved on to the next cluster of talking guests. To her dismay, one of the witches noticed her and picked her up to hug her. After what seemed like hours of even more unwanted cuddling from her and several of her friends, Hermione was finally able to go over to the next group.

This time it was Malfoy, with Pansy and who Hermione recognized as Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini. Pansy saw her and lifted the cat up into her arms.

"Oh, look, it's Moggy!" she said. "Malfoy, don't you want to pet little Moggy?"

"Uh…" Malfoy started. "Sure…" He reached out toward Hermione, who bit his hand as hard as she could before he could touch her.

"Damn…" he hissed to himself, snapping his hand back toward him. Hermione was filled with a feeling of great triumph as Zabini snickered. She assumed that the woman he had his arm wrapped around was Amanda.

"Isn't she adorable?" Pansy cooed, as if she hadn't seen a thing.

"Yes, very…" Malfoy said. "Now, what were you saying, Zabini?"

"Just wondering…" Zabini began, lowering his voice, "about that little operation for the Dark Lord."

Hermione listened attentively.

Malfoy frowned. "Ah, yes, I am supposed to… take care of Weasley."

Goyle, who had been sipping some of his wine, suddenly choked. Crabbe patted him on the shoulder. "You alright, mate?"

Hermione couldn't help but notice he sounded a bit like he was scolding him. Goyle waved his hand indifferently. "I'm fine, just went down the wrong way. Carry on."

Malfoy looked at him strangely. Zabini cut in by saying, "By Weasley, you mean the one that's always hanging around Potter? There's so many of them I can't keep track."

Amanda giggled a little. Malfoy turned his attention back to Zabini.

"Yes, the younger one… What was her name… You know, the girl."

"I believe it was Ginny," Crabbe said, sounding aggressive. Malfoy stared at him. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing, sorry, just got a bit of a headache," he said quickly, as if he'd just remembered something.

Malfoy continued to stare suspiciously for a minute, and then he said, "I have to go talk to the other guests. C'mon, Pansy."

Pansy set Hermione down on the floor, patting her on the head briefly, and then she walked off arm in arm with Malfoy to another group. Zabini, Amanda, Crabbe, and Goyle stayed glued to the spot, looking stressed.

"Watch it next time," Goyle muttered.

"He wants to kill my girlfriend!" Crabbe hissed. He was gripping his wine glass so hard it could've shattered. Hermione immediately realized what those words meant… If Ginny was his girlfriend, then that couldn't really be Crabbe…

"Well, she's my sister!" Goyle said, looking depressed. "So we'll both have to defend her."

"I think we're done here," Zabini said, still talking quietly. "The Potion's going to wear off soon anyway. Tonks, you okay doing reconnaissance here?"

"I'm just fine," she said. "I'll see you later, Lupin."

She squeezed his hand and then went off to where Malfoy had gone. Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle began to march toward the exit, and Hermione, realizing that this could be her only chance at getting out of here and back to the Burrow, quickly ran after them…


	7. Farther Away

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**Chapter Seven**

**Farther Away**

Hermione was able to keep up with the three, but getting them to notice her was another thing. She mewed and yowled and ran circles around them as they walked, but they still didn't show any sign of recognition.

"What's the matter with this cat?" Harry (still looking like Crabbe) said.

"S'pose it's sick of being in Malfoy's house…" Ron answered.

"Exactly!" Hermione mewed. "Take me with you PLEASE!"

They all continued out the front door and to the street running by the large house. Hermione was even more hysterical, knowing that they would Disapparate soon and she'd still be stuck here…

"Where is Ginny anyway?" Lupin asked. "Is she still…?"

"Depressed?" Harry said. "Yeah… we can't convince her Hermione's not dead…"

"I'm not dead!" Hermione yowled. "I'm right here! If you'd just take me back to the Burrow and take this jinx off me, then Ginny won't be sad! Please take me home!"

"Harry, what if… what if Hermione is…" Ron stuttered.

"Don't think about it," Harry said, looking grim. "Just… I mean, you know Hermione's smart, she'll come back…"

"Take me home… _please_…" Hermione continued to lament. She stood up on her hind legs and put her front paws on Ron's leg, gazing at him sorrowfully, hoping that he'd suddenly realize that this cat was Hermione, even though it was unlikely…

"Right," Ron said. "Hey, get off, you cat…" He shook his leg and Hermione drew back.

"That thing reminds me of Mrs. Norris…" Ron cringed. "Let's get out of here…"

Quickly, they raised their wands, and when they had disappeared and the sharp _crack_ had finished echoing down the long, empty street, a cat's distressed yowling could be heard, loud and clear.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hermione woke up late in the morning. Erkki came in and scooped her up just moments after she opened her eyes. When he carried her into the kitchen and set her down by her dish, Hermione didn't have the heart to eat her breakfast or even look at it.

She walked out, and, neither wanting to go outside and look for new posters or try and get into the upstairs office, she sauntered into the living room and curled up behind the couch again.

_My own friends didn't recognize me_, she thought, sighing. _Not even Harry and Ron. I've known them almost ten years now, and they didn't know it was me…_

_Well_, said another part of her mind, _it's not like you really look like yourself. At all._

_But wouldn't good friends recognize each other even if one were a cat?_

_Not really. Malfoy didn't know that Crabbe and Goyle were Harry and Ron, and he's probably known them for longer than ten years._

Well… 

_Oh, come on, stop moping, if you stay here and starve to death, you'll never get home and then Ginny will be miserable forever!_

She'd probably recover after a while – 

_Ahem._

I was just saying… But I suppose you're right, I have to go find my own way out… 

Hermione started to lift herself up, slowly, as her mind was still arguing with itself. But her voice of reason, which had already proved useful in the past, convinced her that she really should go on.

She thought about what Malfoy had said about his assignment last night. It was the first time since then that she had really gone over it, because she had been so distracted by the fact Harry and Ron were at the party that it hadn't hit her.

_So, it wasn't Ron he was trying to murder_, she thought. _It was Ginny. I suppose both of them would be possible targets, or any in the Weasley family, they're mostly with the Order._ _And Ginny is close to Harry… If she were killed, Harry would be heartbroken, and Voldemort knows that would also make him vulnerable…_

Hermione shuddered to think what would happen if that kind of disaster came about. She had to help protect Ginny, but how was she supposed to do that if she was stuck in Malfoy's house?

Well, let's see, you're stuck in the soon-to-be murderer's home where he's perfectly defenseless, especially since he thinks you're just a cat. I don't know why you don't just give up now. 

Of course! She could just convince Malfoy not to do it. Somehow… But how would she do it? She was only a cat, and he didn't like her in the first place… Plus Hermione wasn't planning to stay here long term… Oh, what the hell, she wouldn't be going anywhere…

"So I have to think of a plan," Hermione mewed. "Um…"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, the leader appointed after Dumbledore had gone, Minerva McGonagall, had called a meeting after Lupin, Harry, Ron, and Tonks had given her a report on their reconnaissance mission. The members of the Order sat in chairs around the table and stood nearby, all waiting for her to speak up.

"I've been informed of some unfortunate news," she said darkly. "Ginny Weasley has been made the next target of You-Know-Who."

Mrs. Weasley shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Then that's why there was a Death Eater in my house… Ginny…"

Mr. Weasley put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure she'll be alright. We'll make sure no harm comes to her."

"But why do they want Ginny?" Ron asked from a few seats away. "_He_ could just as easily kill me."

"I believe you know why," Minerva replied. "It's because of Mr. Potter."

Harry, who was sitting next to Ron, simply stared down at the table in front of him as if he'd rather listen to the wood than be there at the meeting.

"Why did… why did the Death Eater kill Hermione, then?" Tonks asked slowly.

"If she was murdered!" Ron said hotly.

"R-right…"

Minerva sighed. "She probably got in the way… Not that I believe she was murdered, I believe Miss Granger was far too intelligent to let her life end there. But something did happen to her."

There was silence for a moment. A few people looked around, looking distressed. Lupin walked forward and cleared his throat.

"Minerva, what should we do to help protect Ginny?"

"Well," she said, "I have thought about that quite a bit. Draco Malfoy is the one You-Know-Who has chosen to kill her. If we can stop him, we would not need to protect her. And there is only one person here who could even try to persuade him not to."

She looked around at all the people gathered into the dining room. Her eyes locked onto a young blonde witch in the back, who was listening very carefully to the conversation.

"Xanthe," Minerva said. "I need you to talk to him."

The blonde woman nodded. "I'll try."


	8. Field of Innocence

**This chapter is a bit short… I had writers' block, I was trying to think fast. : P**

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**Chapter Eight**

**Field of Innocence**

Hermione could not come up with a valid plan, but she knew that whatever strategy she chose, she wouldn't be getting anywhere if she didn't get Malfoy to trust her. It would be extremely hard to earn that trust, though… _How_ many times had she bit him since she'd turned into a cat?

The best approach was probably to take it in little steps. _But I don't have time for little steps… Damnit_… She'd have to try anyway. It was the greatest tactic she had at the moment.

So, the next morning, when Malfoy came down the stairs to go out again, she walked over to him. She mewed, trying to sound as friendly as possible, but it was much more difficult then she thought.

"I'm leaving… Oh, what do you want?" he said, looking down at her scornfully.

_I want you to go to… _she began to think, but she tried to shake those thoughts away. _Have to be nice… Be a nice little Moggy…_

"Erkki, this thing's hungry again," Malfoy said. "Get it some food so Pansy won't whine about her 'poor starving Moggy' again."

He left, slamming the door behind him. Hermione stood rooted to the spot. _Be patient. He's not going to be nice the first time around. Or the second. Or third…_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hermione did not waver. She stayed faithful to her plan and every time she saw Malfoy, she acted like a total suck-up, even thought it pained her to do so… And, of course, Malfoy could care less. If anything, he seemed to be slamming the door harder every time. It seemed the only reason he kept Hermione around was because Pansy adored her.

When Malfoy wasn't around, she did her usual: trying to found out where she was, and what was in that book he had in his office. Who knew what other targets Voldemort had given Malfoy? Hermione knew that the answer was in that book.

New posters had finally been put up on the lamppost, but they were about as helpful as the old ones. The Ministry poster with her face on it remained up for a long time.

Then one day, she ran outside and went to look at the posters, and saw hers had been taken down.

And as she was walking back, she saw a copy of the Daily Prophet on the front step. In these days of Voldemort, a column had been put on the front page, announcing those that had died at the hands of Death Eaters. Hermione glanced at it, and her heart sank when she saw the name at the top.

"Hermione Granger

Missing, pronounced dead by Ministry on 16th of May"

"No!" she yowled. "No, I'm not dead! Don't say I'm dead! No, no, no!"

The door opened, and she saw Erkki standing there. "Moggy!" he said. "Master's cat must be hungry, Erkki heard Moggy crying from in the kitchens – "

Hermione hardly paid any attention when the house elf's leathery hands closed around her and raised her into the air. She kept her eyes on her name in the paper, which Erkki picked up also. She continued to read it over and over again, the whole time thinking, _but I'm not dead…_

Harry and Ron would read this, she knew they would, and so would Ginny and the Weasleys, and everyone else back home, and then they would give up looking for her… She'd never get back…

Hermione thought of all those times when she was young, in Hogwarts, all those times going to classes with Harry and Ron, how they'd been the only ones to defend her when all the other students thought she was a nerd, and the feasts and Halloweens and Christmases and the trips to Hogsmeade and all those adventures… The thought of never, ever going back to all that… Staying a cat all her life…

How much she wished she could go back to when she had gotten the letter from Hogwarts, found out she was a witch, become friends with them… When the days were filled with laughing and the innocence of being a child… A child who need not be afraid of Voldemort, Death Eaters, murders, being trapped and afraid and alone…

Erkki had set Hermione down by her food dish, piled with kitchen scraps, but she wanted anything but to eat at that moment. She looked at the paper one final time, as Erkki began to walked away…

And there in the top corner, she noticed a long, thin label.

"Draco Malfoy

Number 33 Selene S.

Rohesia, Great Britain"

"That's it… Rohesia, of course!" Hermione said, her spirits lifting. "One of the fourteen wizard communities in Britain, that's not far from the Burrow at all! I know how to get there now!"

She did not think of her incomplete plan to save Ginny, but jetted out of the kitchen and to the front door. She opened her mouth to yowl for someone to let her out, but a knock came on the door before she could say anything.


	9. Hello

**Up to 5500 hits. : D**

**I actually didn't catch the part in the book that said Hogsmeade was the only wizarding village in Britain… (Inner Neko: YOU CALL YOURSELF AN HP NERD?!) But I already wrote it, so… : P**

**Glad you're all curious about Xanthe and everything, that is exactly what I wanted… (Mwuhaha!)**

**Chapter Nine**

**Hello**

Hermione didn't move from her spot; the knock on the door just made it easier. Now she didn't even have to call for Erkki, he'd come answer the door and let her out at the same time, and she would run, far from this house, back to the Burrow, her home…

But it just wasn't that simple.

Erkki came walking out of the kitchen. "Who might it be?"

"I believe Draco knows very well who I am," said the person on the other side.

_Is it…?_ Hermione began to think, but then Erkki squawked in fright and ran back into the kitchen as if it would shelter him from a nuclear bomb. "No, no, go away please! I do not know Mr. Draco Malfoy…"

Hermione heard the person mutter something, and then she had only a nanosecond to leap out of the way of the door, howling, as it swung open. A young woman with long neatly cut blonde hair walked in briskly, looking determined. Hermione's suspicions had been confirmed; it was the same woman she had seen before, the night Malfoy tried to kill Ginny. Hermione tried to run out, but as if she could read the cat's mind, Xanthe picked her up.

"I need you to stay here," she whispered. "I'm on your side."

Hermione was so shocked that when Xanthe sat her back down on the floor, she didn't try to go anywhere near the door, but just listened as Xanthe yelled to the house elf.

"If you don't know him, how'd you know his surname?" she asked. She tapped her wand on the palm of her free hand threateningly.

Erkki's large, bug-like eyes peeked out from behind the kitchen door. "I – I – "

"He's a Death Eater and he doesn't even have the sense to get a house elf that can shut its mouth…" She sighed. "So where is he? Out murdering some more 'blood traitors'?"

"Erkki does not know…"

"Oh, come off it, of course you know!"

"Erkki does not lie! Master does not tell him where he goes! Please leave, I beg you – "

"Erkki!" Pansy yelled demandingly from upstairs. "I heard the door slam. What's the matter?" She came running down the staircase, and she stopped at the sight of the intruder.

"Draco doesn't want _you_ here, Xanthe! So get out!"

"Oh, he told you about me, did he?" the blonde responded. "I suppose you're his girlfriend. I'm surprised you got far enough to move in with him. You must be, what, the fifty-third one he's had?…"

Pansy turned red. "What are you suggesting?"

Xanthe smirked and turned around, pretending to look at the pictures on the wall. "Oh, nothing at all… Now, where'd he go? If you know about me, you damn well know what he's up to."

"I'll not tell you," Pansy said, putting her hands on her hips.

Xanthe turned and smiled devilishly. "Well, then, I guess I'll just have to wait for him to get home, won't I?"

Pansy gasped. "I don't think so! Get out!"

"No."

"_Yes!_"

At that exact moment, Malfoy walked in through the door, and as fast as he came in, he'd whipped out his wand, pointed it at Xanthe, and yelled, "_Petrificus – _"

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Before he could finish his spell, he was knocked backward, his wand flying out of his hand. Xanthe kept her wand pointed at him as she slowly approached him. Pansy screamed.

"Oh, shut up, will you?" Xanthe snapped.

_You tell her_, Hermione thought.

"What the hell do you want?" Malfoy hissed, not making a move.

"I just want to talk to you, Draco," she said.

"About what?"

"You were always the rebellious git, weren't you? Can't shut up and listen to others…"

"_About what, damnit?_"

"Things, that's what. Now get up. We need to talk privately." Xanthe nodded toward the living room. Malfoy glared at her for a long moment, then finally clambered up from the floor, grabbing his wand and walking into the living room as she followed. Hermione scampered in before any of them, not wanting to miss a bit of this conversation.

Malfoy sat down on the couch without putting his wand away. Hermione leapt up onto the back of an armchair. Xanthe shut the door, locked it, and turned to look at Malfoy.

"You know, don't you?" Malfoy said in a defeated tone.

Xanthe didn't move. "Of course I know. You kill that girl and you're just going to be stuck here forever, you know that, right?"

Malfoy said nothing. He looked down at the floor as if he hadn't heard her.

"You were already suppose to kill Dumbledore. Kill Ginny and you can never turn from Voldemort."

Hermione was even more shocked. _What was it about this Xanthe that could shut him up? Why did she say Voldemort's name? Hermione had heard few other people use that name… And she didn't even flinch…_

Malfoy still didn't look up. "Well, I'm not turning to the blood traitors, if that's what you want."

"Because you think Voldemort will kill you. You know, it's not just Mudbloods and people not on his side that he wants murdered. Once he makes the world so it's only purebloods, he'll probably turn on you, too. And you're going to help him?"

"Don't try to change my mind, I can live my own damn life, you know."

"So could _Lucius_," Xanthe said, snarling the name as if it was a disgrace just to say it. "But he let himself end up in Azkaban and now he's a loon, isn't he?"

"SHUT UP!" Malfoy yelled. Hermione jumped, but Xanthe still didn't move.

"I'm just saying. If you do change your mind, you can always talk to me." She turned to walk out the door, but then Malfoy snarled, "Why would I ever go to _you_?"

Xanthe turned back around and marched right over to Hermione. While the witch-turned-cat tried to figure out why she was going to her, Xanthe picked her up and carried her over to Malfoy. "Alright, so maybe you wouldn't want help from me. But Moggy's always here."

She dropped Hermione right on Malfoy's lap. Hermione's muscles locked up, then she tried to relax. _That's right… I'm always here, so start coughing up some information, you git…_

"I actually think she wants to be friends with you," Xanthe said. She gave a mock smile, then pivoted around on one foot and left, not saying a word. Malfoy didn't say anything for a while, then said, "Get off of me, you bloody animal."

**In case you didn't notice, a lot of the chapters are named after Evanescence songs. (Evanescence is THE band! XD) REVIEW!**


	10. The Only One

**7500 hits exactly. Awesome!**

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I had a longing to start a bunch of new stories, as you can plainly see… : P But anyway, here's an update, finally.**

**Chapter Ten**

**The Only One**

Hermione lingered behind the couch for some time after that. Malfoy had disappeared again, as had Pansy and Erkki. No one would let her outside, and besides, she thought now that she ought to stay a while longer, to try and figure out what she could do to help the situation with Ginny.

She lay on the floor for a long while, until the sun had set again and the living room was dark and shadowy. It wasn't until then that she heard a bang from upstairs.

Hermione walked silently to the door and peered around it, into the entrance hall.

She could just see the outline of Pansy, marching down the stairs and to the door. It looked like she had something large in her hands. If she'd still been a human, Hermione wouldn't have seen it was a suitcase in the dark. Pansy yanked open the door, walked out, and slammed it behind her.

Hermione stayed in that spot for a long while, trying to understand exactly what she'd just seen. Pansy with a suitcase… where was she going?

_Wait a minute_, Hermione thought. _Is she walking out on Malfoy?_

Hermione padded out of the doorway and went up the staircase into the upstairs hall. As far as she could see, every door was firmly closed… She continued on, and saw one that was open a bit. She squeezed in and remembered that this was the office, seeing the desk there.

She wasted no time hopping up to where she had seen the book before. She was sure it was where it had been, but it wasn't there.

"What?" someone said form the other side of the room. Hermione jumped. _Why do I always have to get surprised when I'm up here?_

She looked over and saw Malfoy sitting in the chair over in the corner. The book was right in his hands. Hermione stared at him, trying to figure out how she'd get to have a look at it.

He just looked at her, then back down at the book. It seemed like a lifetime of silence, until he finally spoke again.

"You know what? Just stay here if you want. I don't bloody care."

He tossed the book up on the desk next to her and turned the chair so that he was facing the wall. Hermione was puzzled for a second, and then she turned her attention back to the book.

She went to it and placed a paw on the side of the front cover, struggling to open it. Finally she was able to lift it up. The first thing she saw was a slightly old looking picture of two little kids. Both had white-blonde hair. The boy looked a bit older than the little girl.

Hermione looked over at Malfoy to make sure he was distracted. He was still facing the wall, probably thinking. She used one of her claws to go to the next page. On the left side was the same picture that had been in Xanthe's house. But, where there had been a scorch mark, there was the crest of Gryffindor. And where some of the golden letters had been, it said, 'Xanthe Roberts, 7th Year'.

On the right side, a part of the Malfoy family tree was pasted. Hermione traced along the lines and found Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. But instead of one line indicating their son, there were two: one for Draco Malfoy, and one for Xanthe Malfoy, a year younger.

If cats could gasp, Hermione most certainly would, but instead she just let out a surprised sort of meow. So that was it! Xanthe was his _sister_!

But if he'd had a sister… Wouldn't she have seen her at Hogwarts? No, she was a Gryffindor… None of the Malfoys would want everyone to know she was a Gryffindor; it would put them all to shame. That's why in the picture she was Xanthe Roberts. They changed her name so no one would see she was a Malfoy.

That was the entire reason Malfoy hated her. She was an outcast. Hermione remembered what Malfoy said in their first year, about everyone in his family being a Slytherin… But he didn't know his little sister would be joining the ones he hated the most…

And that was why Xanthe had looked familiar… Now that she thought about it, Hermione had seen her at meetings of the Order. She was always in the back, she never talked much.

Hermione would have looked through the book more, but all the sudden a hand reached out and slammed it shut. She looked up and saw Malfoy.

"I thought I put that so it wasn't open…" he said. He walked toward the door and held it open. "Come on, then, cat, you can't be in here. Go on."


	11. Where Will You Go

**A/N: OMG! Yes, I have updated! XD Sorry, I have a thing about starting a bazillion stories at a time and then being totally random about updates. : P Anyway, "Moggy" has almost 9000 hits! That's 1000 away from 10000: D Well, here's chapter eleven, another short one. Hopefully the next one will be longer. : P**

**REVIEW!**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Where Will You Go**

Hermione could barely sleep, still marveling over her discovery about Malfoy's sister. She was curled up behind the couch, staring out into the shadows, thinking. She stayed that way for several hours before she finally dozed off.

In the morning, she woke to the sounds of footsteps upstairs. There was a rapping noise, like some one was knocking on a door. Shortly afterwards she heard people talking in low voices.

"What now?" she yawned.

Hermione stretched and walked out the door of the living room. She could hear the voices much more clearly now.

"One of the Death Eaters that were sent to find out what the Order's up to found some very interesting information."

Hermione recognized the voice; it was Narcissa.

"What kind of information?" Malfoy asked.

"It seems they know about your assignment, Draco."

There were a few seconds of silence. Hermione looked up, straining to hear what they were saying. Narcissa started to speak again, but she was so quiet Hermione couldn't hear her. She bounded up the stairs. Once there, she could see Malfoy leaning in the doorway of some room Hermione didn't know of yet, and Narcissa was standing in front of him, arms crossed in a half-nervous, half-angry kind of way.

"…have to be careful. They're starting to talk, Draco. They're thinking you're a blood traitor."

Malfoy's face seemed to be getting paler. "Just because they know about it doesn't mean I'm a blood traitor. What's wrong with them?"

"It was _she_ that got the information directly from you."

Narcissa scowled at the word 'she'. She glared at him expectantly, now starting to look more uncomfortable. "I didn't know you were talking to her."

"I wasn't," Malfoy said brusquely. "She just invited herself in."

"So? You could have killed her! We could all do without her."

Malfoy glanced sideways at Narcissa. Hermione noted that he didn't just look stressed now, but he had become dangerously angry.

"I'm not a blood traitor," he said simply.

"Well, I hope you can convince them of that, because you know what'll happen if you don't, and Lucius, he's already…Never mind."

Narcissa shook her head and started to walk away. Hermione began to lick her paw absentmindedly, just to make sure she looked like an innocent little Moggy. The willowy black robed figure ambled by and began to descend the stairs. Then she paused and turned.

"And Draco," she said, "the Dark Lord has changed his mind."

Malfoy looked up, surprised. "He's given it to someone else?"

"Of course not," Narcissa said. "Now, you're to get rid of the Weasley girl and _her_."

Malfoy didn't answer, but dropped his jaw, absolutely dumbstruck. Hermione looked from Narcissa to Malfoy and back. After a long silence in which Narcissa looked at him, with a serious but otherwise unreadable expression, she departed. The sound of the front door slamming shut seemed to wake Malfoy from his shock. He ran a hand through his pale blond hair and started to walk back into the room.

Hermione ran over quickly and tried to come in just as he was closing the door. He looked down at her. His silver eyes had a much softer, distressed look to them.

"Not now, Moggy," he said. "I need to think."

The door shut silently. Hermione stared at the door feeling completely astonished and stiff with realization. _He's afraid!!_


	12. Leaving

**A/N: At 10, 700 hits. Shweeet. XD **

**On with the story. Oh, and don't forget to REVIEW:3**

**Chapter Twelve **

**Leaving**

Hermione couldn't believe it. All this time… he was afraid. He didn't want to kill his sister. She could see it in his eyes. Even Narcissa, her own mother, had come to despise the child for what she had become. She was nothing but a blood traitor to her family, another outcast of the wizarding society that would be better off dead. Hermione just couldn't understand how anyone could hate their own daughter like that. Evidently Draco Malfoy shared some of the same feelings.

He even loved his sister.

Hermione's ever great and logical mind worked to piece together all the remaining parts of the story. He'd grown up with her, she was his friend, and then came the day the Sorting Hat proclaimed her a Gryffindor. That same day, Draco started to see the mishaps in the beliefs of his family, a long line of pureblooded wizards with no respect for anything but other purebloods. But he was a true Slytherin; he would never let anyone know that, because that would mean that Xanthe was not the only one exiled, and, as Hermione could see now, marked down for an early death.

It was all so clear. Why else would he act so strangely around her? One minute, he'd be trying to attack her and the next he'd seem submissive and quiet.

What could he be thinking now? He was supposed to murder Ginny, and that must have been hard enough. Hermione could see that his doubts about his family and the Death Eaters had become much stronger. He did not want to murder anyone, and especially not Xanthe.

His sister had offered to help. She told him that he could always turn to her, when she had talked with him the other evening. Draco might turn to them. He might run from all of them. He is a Slytherin, Hermione's mind reasoned. In the end, he will kill them, just to save himself. He knows that it's almost impossible to run from the Death Eaters.

Here she had been thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was actually much better than he seemed. But she had thought that about Snape, too, in the early years at Hogwarts, but look what he had done, how he had betrayed Dumbledore's trust…

Hermione's heart sank. She let herself drop to the floor, heavy with all the stress.

"What am I supposed to do? This is just terrible… I just have to get involved with these things…"

The door abruptly clicked open. Hermione was given such a shock her stomach could've leapt up her throat and slammed back down. She jumped to her feet and looked up into the silvery eyes of Draco.

He sat down in the doorframe and reached out to stroke Hermione's soft chestnut colored fur. "What's the matter, Moggy? I heard you crying."

The only reply from "Moggy" was something between a sigh and a huff. She returned to lying on the carpet, her chin on the top of her paws.

"I wonder where Xanthe is." Hermione's amber eyes gazed at Malfoy again. He was looking off in the distance. "I wonder if she could really help me."

_There, you see_, the taunting voice of her more reasonable side called in her mind. _He knows they'll go after him if he betrays them. He'll do it, he'll kill them…_

"I'm going to try," he said. "I'm going to find Xanthe."

Hermione looked up at him, surprised at his decision, but also incredibly relieved. She pushed herself up on her front paws.

"I'll get my stuff and we'll go find her, Moggy. What do you think?" he asked.

"What else do I have to do?" she mewed, not knowing what else to say.

"That's what I thought." He scooped her up and carried her down to his bedroom. He set her on the soft, plush comforter on the four poster, then went around throwing things into a suitcase at random. Erkki stepped in at one point, wringing his hands and looking very nervous.

"Is all well, Master?" he said anxiously. "Mrs. Malfoy looked… erm…"

"Angry, yes, I know," he told him. He grabbed a black traveling cloak from the wardrobe. "It's fine. Now, I'm going on a little vacation."

"Of course, sir," Erkki replied. He did not question him at all. "Everything will be kept in top condition." He departed, leaving Malfoy pause for a minute. He closed the suitcase, picked Hermione up again, and walked out.

As they passed the door to the office, Hermione wriggled in his arms.

"What's the matter?" Malfoy followed her gaze to the door. The faint trace of a smile appeared on his face.

"The book. Of course." He patted Hermione on the head, walking to the office.


	13. Evil or What?

**A/N: "Moggy" has really gained a decent amount of popularity… There's only been one other time I saw I had more than three e-mails in my inbox, and that wasn't reviews, I was just separated from my computer for a week. : P**

**Up to 11,800 hits. (Yaaaaaay!) : 3 REVIEW PLEASE!**

**Chapter Twelve **

**Evil or What?**

"What's he doing here? Harry, look!"

"He's up to no good, of course."

"Careful, don't let him see you!"

"Just tell me when, George, I've got my wand ready…"

"Is that a _cat_ he's got there?"

"Oh, get out from under that window, you look positively stupid." Xanthe walked across the living room, glaring at Harry, Ron, Fred and George, who were all crouching by the window, peering up over the sill through a slit between the curtains.

Xanthe approached the door and saw Crookshanks was pawing at the wood. His tail moved impatiently from side to side.

"What are you doing?" Ron hissed as she waved Crookshanks away and started to unlock the door. "You can't let him in!"

"Hush," she said. She opened the door up to see Draco Malfoy standing with his fist raised, about to knock on the door. There was a very awkward silence. Xanthe glanced at the brown-eyed cat he held in one arm and a smirk appeared on her face.

Harry, Ron, and the twins all stood up and edged towards the door, glowering suspiciously at him, and all holding their wands tightly in their hands.

"Um," Malfoy put his arm down at his side. "Um… hi."

The syllable hung in the air, seeming overly absurd in this situation. Xanthe unsuccessfully tried to suppress a laugh and spoke with in a mock tone of anger. "'I don't want the goddamned thing, it's not mine…'"

Malfoy realized she was talking about Moggy and scowled. "Well – at least she doesn't say anything I don't _want _her to say!"

"And you're calling her a she instead of a thing. Adorable."

The four young men behind her now had expressions of bewilderment. And why wouldn't they? Wasn't Malfoy their enemy? And he was being _ridiculed_ right in front of them.

"I need to talk to you," Malfoy growled out of the corner of his mouth.

"Fine, come in," Xanthe replied.

Malfoy picked up the suitcase that had been at his side and hesitantly walked inside. The audience of their strange conversation drew back in shock, especially Harry and Ron. He ignored them and followed Xanthe down the corridor, glancing around at the area. It was a shabby sort of place, just like he thought it would be.

Xanthe held a swinging door open for him. As he walked inside, Moggy began struggling in his arms. "You can let her down," Xanthe said.

He let Moggy go, and she bounded down the hallway and back into the living room. She tried to get Harry and Ron's attention, but that didn't seem to be working.

"Why does she seem so anxious to see them?" Malfoy asked.

Xanthe shrugged. "Come on, then, will you?"

He walked through the door, and his sister followed him closely. He froze with surprise when he entered the room. It was a very small kitchen, and several people had all been crammed into the space. He recognized a few of them, including McGonagall, the Weasleys, some Aurors…

He'd just dragged himself into a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix!

"Damnit, Xanthe – " he muttered trying to exit quickly before they noticed. The blonde woman grabbed him firmly around the forearm and said, loudly, "No, no, don't leave, Draco!"

Every curse word he possibly knew raced through his mind as she turned him to face dozens of pairs of eyes, all looking at him with fear, astonishment, and anger. He clenched his hands into fists nervously and gulped.

"Xanthe Roberts, what in the – " McGonagall started, drawing her wand and marching towards them, but Xanthe cut her off.

"That's not necessary, ma'am, I just wanted to ask Molly if he could have a room upstairs."

Molly Weasley made a small squeaking noise, indicating that she didn't feel very cooperative with that. Arthur's jaw dropped. "Isn't that… isn't that a Death Eater?"

"Yes, and he's also my brother," Xanthe said brightly before McGonagall could answer.

Absolute dead silence. All eyes were now turned to her. She continued to grin, a grin that looked extremely out of place. Malfoy stared at her also, amazed that she could say that to a bunch of anti-Voldemort wizards and witches and still smile, whether it was fake or not.

"Xanthe," McGonagall said finally, straightening her glasses with quick, jerky movements. "Why… why did you bring him here?"

"I didn't bring him, he came himself."

McGonagall grabbed Xanthe and gave one fierce tug, pulling her over to her side. She whispered to her so that Malfoy couldn't hear. As they were having their own silent conversation, Malfoy looked over toward the Order again, and then turned away quickly after seeing their cold, stony stares.

Xanthe stepped back over toward Malfoy and said, "You can come and sit down now."

"Sit…?" he started. Xanthe nodded and gestured toward the group arranged around the table, all still looking at him. McGonagall, walking briskly back to her spot, gave a terse flick with her wand and a chair appeared next to one of the members, who must have been one of the Weasley brothers, with his red hair. It seemed like the one Greyback attacked long ago, in Malfoy's sixth year at Hogwarts…

_Why_ did Xanthe have to keep smiling? He was getting sick of that damn grin…

Malfoy breathed in, starting to shake a bit now, as he went over to the table to sit down beside many people who'd already decided he was an enemy.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hermione was trying to get Ron and Harry to notice her again, but of course, her efforts were in vain. She pawed at Ron's leg, and he shook her off, saying, "What is with this bloody cat?"

"Don't push it towards me!" Harry lamented. "It's evil, it's been in Malfoy's house…"

"Did you call me evil?" Hermione hissed. "_Did you just call me evil?!_"

"Nice, Ron," Fred said. "Now it's pissed off."

"Come on, let's go find out what's happening in the kitchen…" Ron suggested, ignoring Fred's remark. Harry shook his head. "No, I'll go up and see Ginny. You can all go."

Ron shrugged and went with Fred and George down the hall, while Harry marched up the stairs. Hermione was about to sink into another of her depressed episodes, but quickly she shook it off. _No_, she thought. _No, they have to know. I have to tell them somehow. Why not try _writing _to them?_

Hermione wagged her tail with satisfaction. It was perfect. There was no way it couldn't work. All she needed was some paper and something to write with, and knowing her way around the Burrow, that would be easy…


	14. Foiled

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**Chapter Fourteen**

**Foiled**

"So," McGonagall started, standing at the head of the table and looking towards Malfoy, "how did you get here?"

They all now looked at Malfoy with a "that's exactly what I was wondering" expression.

"Well… I talked to some friends of mine… who know some people in the Order…"

"So you were looking for us in specific?"

The members of the Order of the Phoenix were now looking very suspicious, albeit confused. "No…" he said. "I just knew Xanthe was in the Order… I meant to find her, not come into a meeting…"

"So he _is _your brother?" Fred, who'd just come in, said incredulously. Malfoy was relieved to know he was addressing Xanthe.

A mousy looking young lady in the back asked, "Well, that's why she was able to talk to him."

Then Fred's twin started in. "How do we know you're not here to kill someone? Don't think we don't know."

"George!" Mrs. Weasley muttered to him, so that Malfoy couldn't hear, but she didn't have the fierce, scolding tone she'd always had as mother of the troublesome twins. She sat back in her chair and didn't say anything after that.

Malfoy looked over at Xanthe, alarmed. "I swear I wasn't going to kill her."

"I know, Draco," she said, nodding.

"So it's true you are a Death Eater who's been told to kill Ginny Weasley?" McGonagall said, keeping her stern attitude amidst all the witches and wizards who now looked very dismayed.

Malfoy looked down at the table, going back and forth along the wood grain with his eyes, trying to keep his mind clear and fog it up so he didn't have to think about this anymore at the same time…

"Yes, but I didn't – I don't want to… I mean…"

"We know what you mean," Xanthe said. McGonagall just crossed her arms, sighed, and gazed upward at the ceiling. It was very silent. Malfoy didn't know what he was supposed to say. He'd already sounded cowardly. It would stupid if he started begging for forgiveness or something, but he wanted to let them know that he did not wish himself to be associated with the Dark Lord anymore… And he couldn't go back anyway, not now…

"He is telling the truth, Mrs. McGonagall," Xanthe added, turning to her.

McGonagall looked as if she were not entirely convinced. Great, now maybe they'd make him take Veritaserum, or worse, just kill him…

"I suppose so," McGonagall said, sighing again. "Yes, I believe you, Ms. Roberts."

She turned to Molly Weasley, who looked a bit paler. "Mrs. Weasley, might you have a room for Mr. Malfoy?"

Molly looked up slowly, and Ron started to speak in a whiny voice from the back. "Oh, come on! Can't he just stay with his sister?"

"I would take Draco, but I live in a small one-bedroom apartment with an even smaller sofa, remember?" Xanthe said. Ron looked at her with an expression of something like loathing. Xanthe just smiled brightly.

"He can stay," Molly said, looking tiredly at Xanthe. "We have a free bedroom since… you know…"

There was a moment's silence. Malfoy wondered what they could be thinking of that would make them so much more quiet and somber. Then Harry came into the room, trying to close the door quickly behind him.

"I swear, that bloody cat's got something wrong with it…" he said. "It was outside my room staring at me."

"Crookshanks?" Ron asked. "Yeah, I know, but –"

"No, not Crookshanks," Harry said. "The evil one."

Malfoy realized he was talking about Moggy and stared coldly. He was acting like they were both part of a deadly virus. Potter probably hadn't even noticed he was in the kitchen with the Order yet…

Harry turned around and stopped. "What's he doing in here? Did he curse you?"

About time...

"Mr. Potter, please," McGonagall said. "He's not dangerous to us now. Actually, why don't you show him up to the empty bedroom?"

Both Harry and Malfoy now froze with pure astonishment and irritation at the idea of something as awkward as that. McGonagall fixed Harry with a piercing glare that he knew meant "get a move on". He groaned, turned around, and walked out the door.

"I'll come with you, Harry!" Ron said, going after him. "I'll make sure he doesn't kill you or something."

As he ran out the door, Malfoy stood up from the chair, extremely reluctant. He gave one backwards glance at Xanthe, McGonagall, and the Order, and then continued to walk out the door.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hermione was laying on the coffee table, a small book set out before her, with a quill and inkbottle beside it. She had managed to flip the pages to a blank paper, over the course of a ridiculously long amount of time, and was now trying to get her paws around the quill.

"I miss my thumbs!" she mewed in a frustrated tone.

_It's not going to work. Even if you pick it up, how are you supposed to keep a hold on it?_

Hermione, ever the intelligent witch, quickly thought up another way. She didn't prefer it, but it would work fine. She opened her mouth and clamped her carnivorous teeth around quill, near the tip. Ignoring the strange feeling of the feather on her tongue, she leaned her head to the side and tried to maneuver it into the inkbottle.

After what seemed like forever, she finally felt it sink into the ink, and then brought it back out. The end was a shining black color. Now she tried to get the tip of the quill down on the paper.

Finally, the lead touched down and made a mark. She moved forward and backward, not daring to raise her head, forming an "I" on the paper.

Then there were footsteps, and Harry, Ron, and – this was new – Malfoy came out into the living room.

"What in the hell is it doing?" Ron asked, amazed.

"Isn't that quill mine?" Harry said. "And the book."

Malfoy walked around the sofa to the coffee table. "No, Moggy, don't chew on that."

_Oh please!! Do I _look _like I'm chewing on it? You act like I'm a bloody animal! _she thought, distressed. _Well, I am an animal, so that doesn't sound right…_

He took the quill from Hermione, who tried to keep a good hold on it with her teeth, but did not succeed. He scooped her up and carried her towards the stairs, Harry gathering up the quill and the book, and Hermione fuming over her foiled plan.


	15. Solitude

**A/N: "Moggy" now has 14,500 hits. (So close! . )**

**About the "laying" thing… That still confuses me. Sometimes it's "lying", and other times it's "laying". I should find out why that is, exactly… The English language can be confusing. : P**

**Read and REVIEW!**

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Solitude**

Harry marched up the stairs, still holding the inkbottle and the book, with Ron following close behind, and Malfoy reluctantly coming after them, with his brown-furred cat. Harry stopped at the door to his room and fumbled with the handle.

"You're supposed to show me to my room," Malfoy said indignantly as Harry opened the door and walked inside, Ron leaning against the wall and ignoring Malfoy.

"Over there." Harry's hand appeared out of the doorway, pointing to a door diagonal from his current location.

Malfoy sauntered over to the door and quickly shut himself into his newly assigned bedroom.

It was a very small space. A bed, a wall mirror, a diminutive writing desk and dresser were the only things in the room. It was hardly what he was used to. It would have made a very good extra closet for him back home, though.

It seemed cluttered enough in there, but the fact that there were various things scattered all around just made it worse. Malfoy set the cat down on the bed. Moggy scuttled over to the desk, where she climbed up on a pile of books and mewed.

Malfoy turned after hearing a knocking sound. Xanthe was leaning against the doorframe, still looking quite casual.

"Everything alright?" she began. "I know it's a bit…"

"Of a mess?" Malfoy finished the sentence for her.

"Yes, that's it," Xanthe said. "This was where an old friend of Harry and Ron's stayed… You've seen the Ministry posters, haven't you?"

"How could I not? Bloody things are everywhere…" He took a seat the desk, picked up a book, and fingered through the pages.

Xanthe stood silent for a moment, as if she were waiting for him to say something. She could see the pages of the book over his shoulder. Arithmancy. Of course he wasn't interested in it, he was only making an excuse not to talk to her about what was going on. She was wondering when he was going to go back to his cool "I-couldn't-care-less" attitude… He hadn't quite been himself since he showed up, though she could see why.

"Well," she said. "It's all of her items. No one's cleared it out because they were waiting for her to come back. I'm afraid she might not back be returning… at least, for a while." She glanced at Moggy, whose amber gaze became frozen, fixed on the blonde.

"That's nice," Malfoy said. "Now I've got nowhere to put my things – _ow_!"

Xanthe whacked him in the shoulder, sighing. "A little more respect please, Draco. I was going to clean it out in the morning for you, but…"

Malfoy glared at her. Xanthe grinned, more in a mocking way than a cheerful way, then turned and walked out, saying, "If you need anything, you can just Apparate over to my apartment. Bye, Draco."

The last echoes of her footsteps as she walked down the stairs dispersed. Malfoy stayed glued to the spot. He looked over to Moggy, who still hadn't moved, except for her tail, which was twitching slightly.

"What's the matter, Moggy?"

The cat looked over to him, then turned and looked out the window in a sulky kind of way. He shrugged and went to shut the door.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_She does know_, Hermione thought. It was now well into the night. She had gone back to sit just outside of the kitchen door. She could just imagine all of them gathered there at dinner… Ron, Harry, Ginny, all the other Weasleys… And she would be with them, having fun, actually forgetting about Voldemort and all the work from the Ministry.

But then she just had to cast that damn spell on herself. How could she have been so stupid?

And then there was Xanthe. It had just hit her, in a wash of icy cold realization, that she really did know. Her inquisitive, intelligent side spoke from the back of her mind: _How'd she find out? How? How?_ But she could not bring herself to really wonder that, because what she really wanted to know was _why_.

If Xanthe knew that Malfoy's cat was Hermione, why didn't she say anything?

Maybe it was because she thought they wouldn't believe her. That could be a plausible explanation. But even Hermione was closed to plausible explanations right now. She was weighed down with negative emotions, heavy with sadness, feeling betrayed.

If she had told them, they might have believed her, and then they would get her back, turn her back into Hermione, and she would sit with them again at dinner, and talk with Harry and Ron, and it would all be back to normal and over with…

But they thought she was dead. She was right in their midst and they really thought she was dead.

She yowled in frustration. All these thoughts were too much to bear. She had to avert her thinking from this. She had tried, but her mind seemed to resist it. She had to try harder.

_Well_, Hermione thought, forming the words clearly in her mind in a fortified attempt at clearing her thoughts. _Well… I can tell them myself. I'm the brightest witch of my age. Of course. So I just need to think. Just need to think…_

"You know, you don't have long to wait now. In fact, I think you'll find tomorrow morning a very opportunistic time for resolutions," someone whispered.

Hermione looked up through the shadows and blackness shrouding the house. She was just in time to see a slender young woman with long blonde hair ascending the stairs.


End file.
